Tea and Rich Red Apples Meghan Theall
As I march down the stairs, I begin to fantasize about what my life used to be. The simplicities of childhood that were merely lost with time raced back into my mind. Early morning soft-boiled eggs with toast dunked into the yolks like a fishing rod plunged into the lake and midday cursive lessons at the kitchen table or a warm cup of tea with a cookie that was submerged at every break in the conversation. Those are the glimpses of my past that make me cherish my life. I learned the most significant lessons; cursive was a dying skill and that making your bed in the morning is the best way to start the day. This picture is something I find myself looking back on when I want to remember life before the struggles of becoming an adult. The house behind me was more than just windows and vinal. It was this place where I took steps of independence—each year, walking up the driveway as I conquered another day of school. It overlooked the bus stop where I slowly became older and more mature. Although this was not my house, it was an extension of my home. It watched me grow up every day. Through the tears, the joy, the anger, it saw everything. I would never have thought that something of such materialization would hold an eternal place in my heart. Although there is much joy that comes from inside those walls, there is also sadness. As time went on and we grew up, things faded away. Traditions became a faint memory, and the people closest suddenly were gone. Days we had dreaded were soon upon us, and this house, the one where we began, brought us together again. Years had passed, and family gatherings had been a thing of the past. The day my uncle passed away, it was like we had never stopped coming together as a family. The living room that was once cold and dark soon filled with light and laughter. With such a tragedy, we rekindled relationships and bonded over our melancholy. Each room in the house drew out memories from the past. I was dancing in the big room, dreaming about life as a ballerina up on the grandest of stages. I twirled and leaped, each time getting back up and trying again. Then there was the workbench in the basement where my Papa taught me
46
to paint and hammer. His watchful eyes were looking over as I attempted to accomplish what took him years to learn. The den, with two recliners set up at the perfect angle to see the TV. A space of comfort and relaxation where within those four walls, all my worries faded away. I now realize that I never cherished the last time I sat in that room and felt my worries fade away. I was swept up in the excitement of growing up that time quickly raced away from me. Now looking back, it is those days that molded me into who I am today. My passion and my anxieties all made their mark in this place. I discovered my strengths as well as my weaknesses. It is the difficult times I face in my life that I long for the simpler days. Days when my worries consisted of making it up the icy driveway without falling or if I could ride my bike down the street by myself. I wish I could go back to those days. When life was easy and we were healthy. I remember every day, as I would leave, I would hug them goodbye and kiss them on the cheek. Over time this tradition went away. As I sit here and think, I can’t remember why I stopped hugging them when I would leave. However, I wish I could go back in time and re-live those moments. I want to give one more hug and kiss after an afternoon filled with joy. I never realized my life would not be consistent when I got older all those days spent at that house. One day, I will grow up, and the hours spent there will diminish. The photo shows me right before my first day of kindergarten. My metallic pink flats carried me around as I danced with joy in the driveway. I wear the rich red apple on my neck like a trophy. At that moment, I felt so old. All I had ever wanted was to grow up and be older. This picture is a defining moment in the journey that I was about to embark on. The years of school, friendships, and lasting memories were right in front of me, waiting to be discovered at that moment. Meghan Theall is an Elementary Education major. She is from Billerica, Ma and is on the softball team at Lasell.
